Amy leaned on the banister and panted, sweat breaking out on her forehead as she tried to gain her breath. “It won’t take long.”
“We need light. We’ll have to go back down to the library and take those two oil lamps with us to do a proper search.”
“Wait,” Amy said. “Persephone, where are you?” She called softly, in a singsong voice, apparently trying to keep the beast quiet.
She held her hand up to keep William from speaking and got down on her knees. “Persephoneeeeeee.”
Silence.
“I’m going for the lamp.” Just as William spoke, the blasted dog came strolling past one of the doorways, her missing tail in the air. She walked up to Amy, climbed right into her arms, and nudged her hand until Amy began to run her palm over the dog’s fur.
Amy climbed to her feet. “See. It wasn’t so hard.”
William growled and headed toward the stairs. They made their way back down, William holding Amy’s hand to keep them from stumbling in the dark. As they entered the library, their attention was caught by someone in the room. The stranger looked up at them, grabbed the ledger off the desk, and raced to the window. Within seconds the culprit had climbed out the window and disappeared.
William and Amy both ran toward the window, but no one was visible by the time they looked out into the darkness. William clambered out and ran in the only direction the escapee could have gone. In the pale moonlight, William saw the shadow of someone as he rounded the corner of the house.
The offender turned to look back at William and stumbled, dropping the ledger. Leaving the book there, the thief raced away, disappearing into the woods behind the house. Aside from William’s heavy breathing, the only sound in the night was the echo of small branches cracking as feet pounded across the ground.
As it was too dark to attempt to follow whoever had absconded, William stopped in front of the ledger and bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. After a minute or so, he picked up the book the mysterious person had dropped and turned to join Amy.
By the time he reached the house, she was outside, clutching the infernal animal in her arms, moving her head back and forth, peering in the dark, trying to see him. “Did you catch whoever that was?”
“No. But the thief stumbled and dropped the ledger.” William waved the book in the air. He moved toward her, grabbed her arm, and tugged her forward. “Let’s get out of here.”
Just as they made it to the carriage, a shot rang out. Then a second one. William pushed Amy into the carriage and climbed in after her. “Move!” he shouted at the driver.
William slammed the door as the carriage took off to the sounds of another shot being fired.
“Someone is shooting at us!” Amy yelled.
William shoved her to the ground and jumped on top of her. “Stay low until we’re back on the road.”
The carriage swayed as the driver urged the horses faster. William closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked down at Amy before moving onto the seat, pulling her up next to him. “Are you all right?”
She dusted off her coat and had the nerve to glare at him. “I told you we should bring a gun.”
CHAPTER 17
“No guns. We would only have ended up in a gun battle, and someone would have been hurt. Or killed.” William moved his hand to his upper arm and winced. “I believe I’ve been shot.”
“Shot!” Amy shifted on the seat and fumbled to light the oil lamp anchored to the wall of the carriage next to the window. “Let me see.”
He shrugged out of his greatcoat and jacket and turned his arm toward her. She leaned in very close, then looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’ve been shot!”
After she composed herself, she said, “Take off your shirt so I can see how bad it is.”
William complied by removing his cravat and his waistcoat. “You need to help me pull the shirt off.”
Amy tugged the shirt out of his trousers and gingerly removed it over his head. She got up, holding onto the sides of the carriage, and moved to his other side.
Kneeling close to him, she said, “It looks like the bullet grazed you. But there is a lot of blood. Do you have a handkerchief?”
“Yes. In my right-hand trouser pocket.”
Amy reached in and withdrew the handkerchief. She pressed it against the injury.
“Ouch.” He sucked in a deep breath.
“My apologies, but we need to stop the bleeding.”
“What the bloody hell—excuse my language—am I going to do about this? I can’t show up at my house with a bullet wound. Mother would pass out and then demand to know how I got shot.”
Amy shook her head. “We can’t go to my house either, since it’s close to dawn, and no one even knows I’m gone. If Papa wakes up, well …”
They remained silent for a few minutes, and then Amy said, “I know. We shall go to Eloise’s house. I can throw stones at her bedchamber window to wake her. She can let us in and get you fixed up. We did that for years when we were younger.”
“Why am I not surprised? I think your father made a miscalculation in allowing Lady Margaret to raise you.”
“I beg your pardon? Aunt Margaret is a wonderful aunt and companion.”
“Yes. She certainly is, but I don’t think she was as diligent as she should have been at keeping you in hand.” William leaned his head against the squab and closed his eyes. The pain was not unbearable, but damn, the thing hurt.
“You had better tell your driver where to take us.” Amy watched him carefully, no doubt afraid he might pass out on her.
He had no plans of swooning like an overwrought debutante. He reached the opening in the roof of the carriage and slid the door open. “John, do not take us to Lady Amy’s house or my house. We will go to Miss Spencer’s home. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, my lord,” came the answer.
Amy narrowed her eyes at him. “I will not ask you why your driver knows where Eloise lives.” She raised her chin. “It is not my business.”
Despite the pain, William grinned at her obvious suspicion. “Do not fear, my dear; you may recall that we have both traveled to her home on the way back from our book club meetings once or twice.”
Amy smoothed out her skirt. “I knew that.”
“I think I could use the blanket underneath the seat across from us. Can you get it for me?” He had begun to feel chilly and knew it was probably from the shock as well as being bare chested. Soon he would be shivering.
Amy helped him back into his shirt and then wrapped him in the warm blanket and sat close to him, most likely to share her warmth. What a mess! He would have to keep his mother from knowing he’d been shot, and there was still the issue of getting Amy back into her house before her entire household awoke.
Despite all the hysteria surrounding them, the blasted dog had been sound asleep since Amy dumped her on the seat once they threw themselves into the carriage.
He must have dozed off, as it was near four o’clock when they arrived at Miss Spencer’s house. “Stay here, and I will wake up Eloise.” Amy left the carriage and went around to the back of the house. William closed his eyes and willed the pain in his arm away.
About five minutes later, Amy returned. “Eloise is coming down to the front door. We will bring you up to her bedchamber, where we can take a closer look at your injury and get you patched up.”
Amy helped him into his greatcoat, leaving off the jacket, cravat, and waistcoat. The pain in his arm was becoming a steady throb. As he started to climb from the carriage, he said, “I think John should take you home once Miss Spencer has let me in. It is already past four o’clock.”
Amy shook her head. “No. It won’t take long to clean you up and put some ointment and a bandage on your arm. I will stay.”
William couldn’t help but think that Amy did not want him in Miss Spencer’s bedchamber alone. Had it not been for the pain in his arm, he would have laughed. “Very well. But
if it gets too late, I will insist you return home. The last thing we need is your father seeing you waltzing back into your house at dawn.”
“Nonsense. Eloise’s house is only a short distance from mine.”
Naturally, once they made to leave the carriage, the dog woke up, stretched, and began to bark.
“Amy, do something with that dog. She is going to wake up the entire neighborhood, and I have no sensible explanation as to what the devil is going on here that won’t result in police summons, outraged fathers, and promises of duels at dawn.”
Amy took the annoying animal in her arms. As he left the carriage, William stopped to speak to the driver. “John, this should not take long.”
The man tugged on the brim of his hat. “Very good, my lord.” It always amazed William how John showed absolutely no concern, criticism, or disapproval regarding the various things William requested him to do. He imagined how entertaining the driver must be to the other members of the staff when they visited over glasses of ale and he shared stories of their employer’s shenanigans.
By the time they reached the front door, Eloise was already there, holding an oil lamp up in the air and waiting for them. She had thrown on some sort of a dress and had the look of someone who had just been roused from a deep sleep. “Whatever happened? Why are you both here in the middle of the night? Together?”
“Just get us upstairs to your bedchamber, and I will explain everything.”
The three of them hurried up the stairs and down the corridor to Miss Spencer’s bedchamber. If they were caught, it would be a disaster. Here William was, in the middle of the night, in an unmarried woman’s bedchamber with another unmarried woman. If caught, he would be forced to remove himself to Australia or the American states for the rest of his life. Maybe there was something to be said for an Indian reservation.
Except Lord Winchester and Eloise’s father would beat him to a pulp first, which would most likely render travel impossible. For many years.
“Eloise, we need bandages, some sort of ointment, and a pan of hot water and a cloth.” Amy barked out her orders like a drill sergeant.
Miss Spencer smirked. “My goodness. Had I known I was to become a medical clinic in the middle of the night, I would have had all those things at hand.”
“Never mind the humor; just please get the things we need.” Amy turned to William. “Sit in that chair by the fireplace, and I will help you remove your coat and shirt.”
Eloise left the room, mumbling something about a pending calamity and forced marriages.
Amy dropped Persephone onto the floor. The little dog wandered the room, then settled in for a nap near the fireplace. Amy eased his coat, waistcoat, and shirt off. “Does your arm hurt?”
William winced each time he moved. “A bit. I’ve had worse.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You’ve been shot before?”
“No. I meant I’ve had worse pain before.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the chair.
“Where is the ledger?” Amy asked.
“It’s in the carriage. But I must warn you that during the chase through the woods, the ledger was dropped on the ground. Since the woods were quite damp, it’s possible some of it has been damaged.”
“So now we have a book that is in code and possibly illegible,” Amy said, shaking her head.
William shrugged. “We won’t know until we can examine it in the light. I’m just glad we retrieved it.”
The door to the bedchamber opened, and Eloise stepped through. “I had to wake my maid, Jenny. I couldn’t figure out where to get all the stuff I needed.”
A young girl walked in behind Eloise, carrying some supplies, wearing a dressing gown, and also looking as if she had just climbed from bed. Wonderful. Now he found himself in a bedchamber, with the door closed, with three young, attractive, unmarried women surrounding him.
With his coat, waistcoat, and shirt off.
In the middle of the night.
His reputation would never recover. On the other hand, in certain circles he would be revered and receive many slaps on the back.
Luckily, all three women were quick and competent, and it seemed that within minutes he was cleaned up, bandaged, fully dressed, and on his way out the door. Since the bullet had only grazed his arm and taken out just a small chunk of flesh, there had been no need for stiches.
William, Amy, and the dog returned to the carriage after Amy gave Miss Spencer and the maid a hearty hug, and he offered a huge thanks.
Miss Spencer’s final words to Amy were, “I want the entire story.”
They had traveled only about the length of a full street when they arrived at Amy’s house. Once William got her and the blasted dog inside, he would return home, order his valet to burn the shirt, jacket, and coat, and then pour himself a very large brandy.
Perhaps two.
* * *
Amy tiptoed up the back stairs, avoiding the boards that she knew from years of sneaking out of the house made noise. Perhaps William did have a point about Aunt Margaret’s supervision.
She kept Persephone’s mouth clamped shut with her hand wrapped around the dog’s nose. They were too close to safety to have the dog start barking again. Holding her breath, she stepped onto the second-floor landing. Everything was quiet.
She moved quickly past Michael’s room, Papa’s room, and Aunt Margaret’s. She breathed a sigh of relief and opened her door.
Aunt Margaret sat in a chair by the now-dying fire, sound asleep with a book in her lap. Keeping her eye on her aunt, Amy quickly divested herself of her clothing, pushed it all under her bed, and slipped on a nightgown. Easing the counterpane up, she climbed into the bed with a sigh of relief.
“Where were you?”
Amy almost jumped from the bed at the sound of Aunt Margaret’s voice. She placed her hand over her heart. “Good heavens, Aunt, you scared me to death.”
Aunt Margaret stood and walked toward her. “Is there something I should be concerned about? Do I need to begin wedding preparations?”
“Goodness, no! Why in heaven’s name is everyone suddenly talking about weddings? It’s making me itchy.”
Her aunt sat on the bed. “Perhaps because you were out of the house all night, and I have a strong suspicion that you were not alone.”
“Maybe.”
“Is this the murder investigation again?”
Amy nodded. “Yes. William and I returned to Mr. Harding’s house to look for a ledger or some sort of book. We learned that Mr. Harding carried such a thing with him in which he wrote information—probably payments—when he accepted money from his victims.”
“Did you find it?”
“Yes. We did find it, but unfortunately we were not the only people there looking for the book.”
Aunt Margaret groaned.
Amy shifted so that her head rested against the headboard. “There was another person in the library when William and I returned after finding Persephone, who had run off.”
“Were you seen?”
“Yes. The thief grabbed the ledger and then climbed out the window. William gave chase, but the burglar stumbled and dropped the book.”
“Did William manage to get the book back?”
“Yes.” There was no point in further distressing her aunt by telling her that William had been shot and that they had no intention of stopping their investigation. William was on the police detectives’ list of suspects, and it was up to him and Amy to clear his name.
Aunt Margaret sat and, taking several deep breaths, appeared to calm herself. “Now I will tell you why I spent the night in that chair.” She pointed across the room. “When I got home last evening from the Mallorys’ musicale, you father was in the library. He waved a letter at me and was quite upset by its contents.”
Amy did not have a good feeling about this.
“Since he thought you were already abed”—her aunt stopped and glared at her—“he said it could wait until this morning. I thought
perhaps I would give you a warning about what the letter said.”
“Did he tell you what it was?”
“Yes.” She sighed and took Amy’s hand. “Mr. Gordon from your publisher, Chatto and Windus, wrote to your father and told him if you did not appear at the book fair as E. D. Burton, you would be in violation of your contract and they could sue you.”
Amy groaned and dropped her head in her hands. Good grief. Could this night get any worse? Then she said a quick prayer, not wanting to urge the good Lord into showing her how that could happen.
CHAPTER 18
William winced as he reached for the door handle of the building where Nick Smith had his offices. It had been three days since he’d been shot and the pain had lessened, but when he forgot about it and used his arm in a certain way, he was all too quickly reminded.
Thankfully, the wound had not become infected, and he’d managed to suffer through the Assembly on Saturday and church on Sunday, not wanting Mother to know he was not up to snuff. At least he’d had the pleasure of dancing with Amy, and they had managed to sneak in a few conversations about their investigation. He had also surreptitiously handed off the ledger to her when they left the Assembly.
Amy had sent a note around earlier this morning and told him she was working hard on trying to decipher the code Harding had used in his ledger. She’d confirmed what he’d thought when the unknown thief dropped the book: the name at the head of one section was smeared.
Soon they would have a list of Harding’s victims. In the meantime, William hoped Nick could help him locate Patrick Whitney.
His thoughts turned to the night they had gone to Harding’s house. Neither William nor Amy had gotten a good look at the individual they had chased and who had mostly likely shot at them. It was dark and the culprit had moved fast, never turning his head toward them.
From what William remembered, he’d seen a person a bit above medium height, of medium build, and wearing a hat so that no hair color was visible. One of the thousands of citizens of Bath. Or one of the unfortunate people being blackmailed and anxious to get the book before anyone else saw it.
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